Imagine If This All Came Down
by ClaireAbernathy
Summary: In a world of death and decay, Claire Redfield finds herself inexorably drawn to the one person who can make her happy: Alice Abernathy. A look at the evolution of their relationship through four short vignettes. Set from Extinction to post-Afterlife.
1. Under the Burning Sun

**Fandom:** Resident Evil: Extinction

**Pairing:** Claire/Alice

**Rating:** R (for language).

**Summary:** Claire really wants another cigarette.

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Resident Evil because, duh, if I did I wouldn't be writing a fic about it; this would be canon._

**A/N:** _So this fic is basically a series of four vignettes or "deleted scenes" if you will – just random moments that I felt compelled to write down. For those who have already read this chapter, you'll note there are a few minor changes, as I have revised it somewhat. Enjoy!_

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**Imagine If This All Came Down**

Part One: Under the Burning Sun (_Eto Akta Gamat_)

_Under the burning sun_  
_I take a look around_  
_Imagine if this all came down_  
_America it's all so beautiful_  
_Until it comes away _

-**Oblivion**, _30STM_

_xxx_

Claire leaned back against the hood of her hummer and removed her cap. With her other hand she reached up to wipe sweat from her brow, but she managed only to leave a streak of dirt across her forehead. _Great,_ she thought, pulling the hat back over her auburn hair with a scowl. She was tired of having dirt and grit absolutely _everywhere_, and as far as she was concerned the blistering heat of Nevada had long since exceeded its welcome. She hated to admit it, but Alaska was starting to sound like paradise.

She hoped for everyone's sake that it was. It was all well and good for Alice to show up like some _deus ex machina _and offer them a path to the Promised Land; it was another thing entirely for them to actually make the journey. That particular burden was hers to shoulder, not Alice's, and in some ways she resented the beautiful stranger for it.

_How the hell am I supposed to do this?_

She shook her head. It was crazy. Even if they managed to get there, the likelihood that it would be what the notebook said was slim at best. Claire had grown to believe not to put her hopes in these things – but the decision had been taken out of her hands, and the pessimistic optimist in her pointed out that for years now they had been living for nothing anyway, so what did it really matter? Like Carlos said: maybe a pipe dream really was what they needed.

Arcadia may turn out to be just an idea, but at least an idea was _something_. That would just have to be enough, somehow.

With that resolution made, Claire rose from her position on the car. She was not wont to remain sedentary for long: doing so only left her uneasy and restless. The convoy's main group of adults would be meeting as soon as the others retired to bed, and they would decide how exactly to get all the way to Alaska. Until then, she had time she needed to kill.

She had just begun to cross the camp to where K-Mart, Carlos and L.J. were sitting together, when something in her periphery caught her attention. It was Alice: she was perched atop one of the trucks, her back turned on the convoy, staring off into the distance as if expecting someone or something to appear over the horizon. Against all her misgivings about the newcomer, Claire was intrigued.

She cast a quick glance over at the others and then changed her course, as if her feet were driven by some unseen inexorable force.

She climbed the rungs on the side of the rusty old truck, cresting the top moments later. Her boots clanged loudly on the metal roof, betraying her presence to the other woman.

Alice greeted her without turning around: "Hey."

"Hey," Claire grunted in response, placing a gloved hand on the warm rough metal as she eased herself down beside her. It was hardly comfortable, but almost nothing in this world was anymore.

She spared a sideways glance at Alice, but there was a sort of eerie prescience to her green eyes that impelled her to look away. It was like the older woman could see things that a normal person should not be able to; it left Claire feeling exposed and vulnerable. Years of survival had taught her to be wary of such a sensation; in light of that, she found herself unsure of what to make of Alice and her odd abilities. She was dangerous – no doubt – but was she a threat? Something deep inside of her suggested the contrary.

A beat of silence passed, and Claire remembered her initial purpose for joining her.

"So, you waiting for something?"

Alice looked at her briefly before turning her gaze back to the endless sea of sand before them. She tilted her chin up in a half-nod.

"For Perilin to grow from the sands of Goab."*****

The response was cryptic: nonsensical. Claire frowned in confusion, and for a brief moment she wondered if all those years alone had been detrimental to the stranger's mind. But then Alice laughed wryly and shook her head.

"What?" Claire asked.

"Sorry, I guess I'm not so good at talking to people anymore. It's from a book I used to love as a kid," Alice explained, her tone almost wistful, "several lifetimes ago."

Claire blinked. "Oh."

In that moment she felt rather uneducated for mistaking a literary allusion for insanity. She had spent a good deal of her childhood following her brother, Chris, and his friends around – as a result she had learned to shoot soda cans with a BB gun before she was twelve and was an expert paintballer by fifteen – but it left little time for books and reading. And then in college she had a tendency to skip studying in favour of her Harley. Still, she had no regrets: those were the good times.

Claire joined her fingers together and pushed her hands outward, the joints making a satisfying pop as she did so. Her butt was starting to ache from sitting on the rigid surface, but she chose to ignore it for the time being.

"God, what I wouldn't give for a cigarette," Claire muttered, more to herself than to Alice.

It was a bad habit, but solace in any form was better than nothing.

"I guess it's your lucky day."

Her blue eyes snapped over to Alice and widened considerably when she removed a half-full package of Marlboros from within her duster.

"I'll be damned," Claire said. "Maybe you are the fucking Messiah after all."

Alice laughed. "I don't know about that."

She reached out to take an offered cigarette but paused with it in her hand. "So you're just going to give this to me? What's the catch?"

The older woman waved her hand dismissively. "No catch. The first one's free."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "And after that I have to sell my soul?"

Alice smirked and glanced back at the horizon. "Something like that."

Claire lit the cigarette and bit back a moan as the precious nicotine entered her system. After all the shit she had been through these last few days, it felt damn good. Beside her, Alice lit her own and seemed just as glad for it.

As the burning sun began its descent a hint of a cool breeze began to waft across them, ruffling their hair and soothing their weathered skin. With the area clear of the undead and the simple pleasure of the cigarettes, it almost felt like a normal day in Nevada. It was almost peaceful.

Long minutes later Claire's Marlboro had burned down to the filter, and she stubbed it out on the roof of the truck. With little care she tossed it over the side: after all, when the whole world was an ash tray, who really gave a shit about littering?

She turned to look at Alice, but more specifically at the just-visible package which had been tucked back into her duster for safe-keeping.

"So what would I have to do for a second?" Claire asked. One was not enough to sate her craving, and with the uncertainty of tomorrow she wanted to enjoy it while she could.

A slow smile spread across Alice's lips; her eyes held an impish glint.

"That depends. What's it worth to you?"

Claire shook her head. "I don't really have anything to give you."

The older woman seemed to mull this over before meeting her gaze once more.

"Then I'll make you a deal," Alice said and held up a cigarette. "I'll give you one of these, but first you have to close your eyes."

"Close my eyes?" Claire parroted, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just do it."

Claire searched her face for an indication of what on Earth could possibly be going on in her mind, but Alice was unreadable. Once again Claire wondered if the other woman were as mad as the world from whence her namesake came – but her questionable motives aside, the redhead _really _wanted another cigarette.

So she closed her eyes.

Her cap hit the truck's roof with a soft thunk, and before her lips could form anything more than the words "Alice, wh –?" she found they were otherwise occupied.

Claire raised a hand to Alice's collarbone. She fully intended to push her away and demand to know who the fuck she thought she was, that she could just kiss anybody she pleased, but the intent was belied by her body. Instead Claire's mouth melded to Alice's like it was the most natural thing it could do, her lips pliant under the exploratory press of the other woman's tongue.

As they kissed, the redhead drew her free arm about Alice's neck and used her other hand to cup her jaw, pulling the other woman closer to her.

When Claire's lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen she broke the kiss, but she supplanted it with several smaller ones between breaths. Alice returned them as well, with a sort of intimacy unfit for strangers, as if they did this sort of thing all the time.

After a few more of these kisses they pulled apart altogether, coming back to reality. Alice gave the younger woman a Cheshire-like grin and handed over a Marlboro.

"Thanks," Claire said, breathless.

Alice's grin somehow widened. "No. Thank _you_."

Once again they smoked in silence and watched the sky as it was streaked with colour by the setting sun. Neither spoke of what just happened, though Claire's mind was reeling because of it.

A while later Carlos appeared at the side of the truck and called up to them. It was time for the meeting that Claire had nearly forgotten about, because of the unexpected interlude with Alice.

"So, you ladies been getting to know each other?" Carlos inquired as the two of them reached the ground. He seemed thrilled that they no longer appeared to be at odds.

Alice smirked and glanced at Claire. "You could say that."

"That's great," Carlos said. He patted Alice affectionately on the shoulder before making his way around to the back of the truck, which had been deemed the official meeting place.

When he was gone, Alice returned her gaze to Claire and held up the package of smokes.

"There's more, if you feel like one later," she said with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows, and then she moved to join Carlos.

Claire stared after her for a moment and shook her head. Something told her life would never be quite the same with Alice around.

She was right.

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***Perilin/Goab is a reference to The Neverending Story. After reading that book, I couldn't help but look at Alice as being sort of like Bastian walking through the endless desert. Yes, I am a nerd, and an English major; it comes with the territory. (And for disclaimer's sake, I obviously don't own The Neverending Story, either.)**

*Also, the "Eto Akta Gamat" that I added to the title reflects the change in the kiss – "Eto Akta Gamat" is a phrase in the Divine Language, spoken by Leeloo in The Fifth Element, and it means "never without my permission." I changed the kiss from requested to stolen... partially because I enjoy being able to make excessively nerdy references. Hopefully people like the changes, and if not... well, I do.

And lastly, I have no idea if this bears explaining or not, but Alice pushes Claire's hat off because I imagine the brim would get in the way. That and it helped me set up the kiss.


	2. The Shades That Fill the Grey

**Fandom:** Resident Evil: Afterlife

**Pairing:** Alice/Claire

**Rating:** T - M (not sure)

**Summary:** Claire wants to remember Alice; Alice makes a habit of kissing women she hardly knows.

**Disclaimer:** _Oh, look at that... I still don't own Resident Evil. How odd. (Nor do I own Of Machines or Escape the Fate).  
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**A/N:** _So this is based on a scene from the Afterlife script where Alice wakes up to Claire sitting on her cot, asking if they were friends and if she were a good person. (And yes, Claire really was sleeping under her bed. Only Paul will ever know why). Like the first chapter, this has been slightly revised.  
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**Imagine If This All Came Down**

Part Two: The Shades That Fill the Grey

_I stand apart  
I am the one who's lost  
I am the one who's lost_

_As if everything was held in its place_

_Held in its place._

-**As If Everything Was Held In Place, **

Of Machines

_xxx_

Claire awoke to the dirty underside of her cot. It was riddled with old wadded pieces of gum, and she cringed at the sight. _Why did I think sleeping _under _the bed was a good idea? _Taking great care not to hit her head, she slid out from beneath it and stood. Her body ached, and she stretched in a vain attempt to alleviate some of the tension.

She had been dreaming, and it was a strange sort of dream that felt entirely too real – like déjà vu. Considering the way the scarab's drug had affected her, it was quite plausible that it _was _real; a memory, rather than a product of her subconscious. Lately she found it all but impossible to distinguish the two, and so she had stopped trying.

Claire stood in the darkness of the cell, her mind torn: she knew she should try to rest, but she was wide awake and wanted something to do.

Her thoughts drifted to Alice: Alice, who had cared enough to bring Claire with her out of Alaska despite their less than amiable reunion. _Why?_ She racked her brain for any vestiges of the other woman, of who she had been to Claire before all this happened. Had they been friends, or...? The possibility of something else gave her pause.

_Only one way to find out._

Her footsteps seemed deafening as they echoed in the hall of the cell block, but she did not have far to go. She halted outside the cell nearest her own, lingering at the open door. Alice was sprawled out on her cot, sleeping fitfully, and she wondered if perhaps her curiosity were best left for the morning. But Claire never had been one for waiting, and her lost memory did little to change that.

She crossed the threshold and moved to perch lightly on the end of Alice's cot.

The older woman awoke with a start, her hand instinctually finding her firearm. Alice calmed when she realized who her impromptu visitor was, and she set the weapon back down.

"Hey. What's up?" Alice said with concern etched on her beautiful features.

"You were my friend?" Claire asked. She searched green eyes with expectance, like discovering the answer would make everything else fall into place.

Alice blinked and brushed the sleep from her eye with one hand. "I like to think so."

Claire half expected her to be irritated by the interruption, but instead a sleepy smile made its way onto her lips. She was encouraged by this and decided to ask another thing that had been on her mind for a while. But when she opened her mouth to speak, she hesitated; she was not sure that she wanted to know the answer.

"Was I... a good person?"

"One of the best," Alice replied, fervently. "Why would you ask that?"

Claire shook her head. "I don't know... I have this feeling that I let people down."

Silence hung between them for a long minute, and then Alice looked back up into her blue eyes. There was a sort of raw emotion that flickered in her gaze.

"You're not the only one," Alice said darkly; after that she seemed to drift away again, tortured by her own thoughts and memories.

Claire rose to leave, thinking that the other woman would prefer to be left alone, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.

"Do you want to get some fresh air?"

She raised an eyebrow in response.

"Well, as fresh as L.A. gets, anyway," Alice amended, offering a small smile.

"Yeah... I'd like that."

They navigated their way through the empty corridors together, heading for the roof of the prison. Alone the journey would have been unsettling, but there was something about Alice's presence that set Claire at ease. At the same time it was confusing and even a little troubling, because how could a relative stranger feel so much like home?

It was an overcast night, the sky tinged shades of grey. The sound of the undead permeated the air, their distant howls like a perversion of a cricket's chirp – a true sign of the world's state of decay.

They walked to the edge and stared over it, morbid fascination overcoming the innate desire to stay away. Thousands of arms reached upward like a worship service from hell, and Claire felt nausea begin to curl in the pit of her stomach.

"All the world will be your enemy," Alice remarked with wry humour to her tone that seemed vaguely familiar. "And whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you."*****

"Let's hope they never do," Claire replied as she turned away with a shudder.

She climbed the metal staircase to the high point of the roof, Alice at her heels. At the top they stood shoulder to shoulder and stared out at the Arcadia in the distance. It was a beacon of hope; however, if she had learned but one thing in this short period of time, it was that hope in this world was not always what it cracked up to be.

"Do you think we'll find answers there?"

She looked at her companion, but her features were unreadable.

"Yes," Alice said slowly, "but I don't think we're going to like them."

Claire noticed that her hands were gripping the railing so hard that her knuckles were turning white, and she felt an odd desire to comfort her. She covered violence-worn fingers with her own and glanced up at the slightly taller woman.

She should have been surprised by what happened next, but somehow it seemed right. Natural.

Alice's lips ghosted over hers, and when they met with no resistance, pressed more firmly. Claire succumbed to the kiss, to the strange but not unpleasant familiarity of it. As their mouths moved together, lips and tongues mapping and exploring, warmth spread through her body; she felt more alive than she had in God only knows how long.

Minutes later they parted, but their eyes stayed closed against the world. They lingered there, still close enough that each could feel the other woman's breath against her lips.

Claire raised a hand to rest on Alice's collarbone. "Why do I feel like we've done this before?"

With a smile, Alice kissed her again. "We have."

"So you make a habit of kissing women you hardly know?" Claire asked and drew away to look at her as she did.

"No," Alice answered, flashing a pearly-white grin. "Just you."

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***What Alice says here is a quotation from Richard Adams' **_**Watership Down**_**. It is what Frith says when he blesses El-ahrairah, the prince of the rabbits. El-ahrairah is the ultimate trickster who will never be caught. It may be that I'm just a huge nerd with an abstract way of thinking, but Alice is very much like El-ahrairah in my mind. (If you haven't read random novels like me, if you google "The Story of the Blessing of El-ahrairah" that particular passage is available online – just in case anyone is interested.)**


	3. And You Said, It Was Like Fire

**Fandom:** Post-RE: Afterlife

**Pairing:** Alice/Claire

**Rating**: 18+ (If you're underage... leave now.)

**Summary**: Alice and Claire go to bed early; Luther finally gets the hint.

**Disclaimer:** I still have no ownership over Resident Evil, but should someone be so inclined to give it to me... I would have no objections. I also don't own You Me At Six or Passion Pit.

**A/N:** _Okay, so I know I said this was a two-shot, but a third idea came to me. And yes, it's rated M. But hey, we all wanted to see it happen. So with no further gilding the lily and no more ado..._

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**Imagine If This All Came Down**

Part Three: And You Said, It Was Like Fire

_Remember when you were my boat  
and I was your sea  
together we'd float, so delicately_

-**Fireworks**, You Me At Six

xxx

The control room of the Arcadia was quiet. Some of the blinds had been opened, and the sun was casting slatted patches of light through them. Claire was sitting on a counter with her head tilted back and her eyes closed, basking in that light. The warmth of the sun's rays was an ordinary part of life that she had always taken pleasure in, but for so many years had forgotten to enjoy. Lately her mind had been otherwise occupied with the fight for survival.

Her watch was almost over. Tonight they would remain anchored, and in the morning they would send out broadcasts in the hope that they might find more survivors. So far their numbers had been bolstered by almost forty.

The door opened, breaking Claire from her reverie. It was her brother, Chris, who had come to begin his shift. He offered her a smile and a mock-salute.

"How goes the watch?"

"All clear," she said, hopping down from her perch. "You've got a boring shift ahead of you."

After their initial attack had been thwarted, Umbrella had disappeared. There was no doubt in Claire's mind that they would back, but for the moment all was peaceful.

Chris shrugged. "I think boredom is probably good, all things considered."

With a laugh, Claire wrapped her arm around him in a sideways hug.

"I always could count on you for perspective."

"That's what a big brother is for," Chris replied, returning the hug. "And while we're on the subject, you should go get something to eat."

She narrowed her eyes in what would be a chilling glare to most people, but he just smiled in that good-natured way of his that made it impossible to be truly mad at him. When they were kids Chris had gotten himself out of trouble quite a few times by that very quality.

As her memory gradually returned over the last month, their relationship had more or less reverted to the way it was before the world had gone to hell. It was nice having him back: as much as she loved her surrogate family – K-Mart and Alice – having a physical connection to her past grounded her in a way that they could not. And though she would never admit it, she loved Chris' habit of playing the protective big brother.

"Yeah, yeah," Claire said, heading for the door. "Good night."

"Night."

It was not until she had made it down several flights of stairs that she realized just how hungry she actually was. _Damn you for being right, Chris, _she thought, a fond smile tugging at her lips. She hurried her pace, the sound of her boots on the stairs reverberating in the otherwise quiet stairwell.

She stopped at the second-to-last floor, where the Arcadia's mess hall was located. She could hear the muffled sound of many voices, and when she pushed through the door, the room was buzzing with life: something of which, in the past six years, the world had been so bereft.

The sight and sound of so many living people all together was an alien experience for everyone aboard the ship. This was especially true for Claire, who had begun to believe that the fight for humanity was lost and all there was left to do was merely subsist. This new development had changed her view on life in a profoundly irrevocable way.

As her gaze drifted around the room it found Alice by that same inexorable force which had drawn her to the enigmatic woman when they first met.

Alice's features possessed a lightness that they never had before; it was as if the terrible burden she shouldered had been alleviated somewhat. Alice laughed, a genuine sort of laugh that caused her eyes to tear up with its fervour, and there was something about the action that made her even more inconceivably beautiful. She did not see Claire: her attention was on Luther, who was telling a story with animated gesturing of his hands.

Her stomach growled. _Right. Food. _

She made her way to the far side of the room where a table had been set up for serving the evening's meal. K-Mart stood behind it with her chef's coat on – which she had found during the first exploration of the kitchen, and had since insisted on wearing – and was doling out food and water to the survivors.

"Claire, hi!" K-Mart said when she approached.

"Hey. What's for supper?"

The teenager lifted the lid of the serving tray.

"SpaghettiO's," she answered; her eyebrows drew together in a comical look of perplexity. "I never thought a crazy, evil corporation would eat this stuff... but they seem to have bought it in bulk. We have tons."

"Great," Claire drawled.

But then, food was food. At least they had it.

"Want me to dish you up?"

Claire glanced at the small line of people who were technically ahead of her. With all of her normal habits once again intact, she deferred her own needs in favour of others and shook her head.

"I'll wait."

She walked around to the other side of the table to stand beside K-Mart. She watched on with pride as the teenager dutifully served her fellow survivors. Over the past several weeks K-Mart had taken to leadership with remarkable expediency; it felt a lot like what she imagined watching a younger sibling growing up must feel like, and it made her heart swell with affection for the teen.

She wrapped an arm around K-Mart's shoulders and pressed a light kiss to the crown of her head. The teenager looked up at her with bright eyes and a wide smile.

"Isn't this amazing, Claire?"

"It sure is," she agreed.

When the last person in line had been served, Claire selected a bowl for herself. As she reached for a spoon, she looked over to where Alice was standing.

"Has she eaten yet?" she asked.

K-Mart shook her head. As she did, a few errant strands of blonde hair fell into her face and she tucked them behind her ear. "Nope. She insisted on waiting until everyone else had."

A disapproving look crossed Claire's features. She would chide Alice for it, were it not for the fact that she had just done the very same thing. So instead she grabbed a second bowl, and filled it as well as her own with the spherical pasta.

"I'll come help you when I'm done."

K-Mart waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, it's okay, I can handle it."

Cleaning up after the meal and handing out any other needed supplies for the night was a big job; she was impressed by K-Mart's stamina. Claire would be embarrassed to admit it but she was starting to feel her thirty-two years of life, and her energy just was not what it used to be.

"Are you trying to put me out of a job?" she asked, ruffling the teen's hair in the same way Chris always did to her when they were growing up.

K-Mart flushed at the intimation but tilted her chin up with confidence. "Maybe."

It was almost scary how much K-Mart reminded Claire of herself as a teenager.

"Well then, come get me if you need anything, okay?"

With that said she picked up both bowls and made her way over to Alice and Luther.

"Hey," she greeted the both of them, though her eyes were on Alice.

"Hey Claire," Luther said. "How was your shift?"

"Long, and boring," Claire answered him tersely. Then she said to the other woman, "K-Mart told me you haven't eaten yet."

Alice gave her an innocent smile and raised her eyebrows. "I was waiting for you."

"Well, in that case," Claire began, indicating the second bowl in her hand, "care to join me?"

Alice accepted the proffered food, and they turned to find an empty table at which to sit. When Luther made to come with them, Claire shot him a glare; this one lacked any semblance of playfulness, unlike earlier with Chris.

"Alone," she added, for his benefit.

"Oh, sorry," Luther said, clearly taken aback by his mistake. "My apologies, ladies."

It took a bit of searching but they managed to find a small table alone in a corner of the room, near the doors to the kitchen. They settled down at it, happy with the relative privacy it afforded.

Alice pushed her spoon through the bowl, scooping up some of the circular pasta. She cast an amused glance at the redhead.

"So... SpaghettiO's?"

"I'm sorry it isn't fancier," Claire said. "But it beats the hell out of starving to death."

"Mm, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," Alice said, her eyes shining with mirth.

Claire felt the tips of her ears start to burn, and to save face, countered with, "Yeah, well, I've never had any complaints."

Alice smirked. "I'm sure you haven't."

As they ate, Claire was surprised to find that she actually kind of enjoyed it: she had never liked SpaghettiO's, even as a kid. But when she felt Alice's knee brush against hers in the cramped space under the table and the older woman offered her a smile, she reasoned her enjoyment probably had nothing to do with the SpaghettiO's at all.

Later, when they had finished, Claire rose from the table and grabbed their dishes.

"I'll be back in a minute. I'm just going to get rid of these."

She made her way to the kitchen, which was actually quite large: it seemed Umbrella had spared no expense. She found an empty sink, and with her self-sufficient nature rearing its head, decided to wash the dishes herself.

She had just set them into a drying-rack when she felt a familiar presence behind her.

"Alice," she said, without turning around.

A gentle hand came to rest on her hip and soft lips brushed her ear.

"I think it's time for bed, don't you?"

The husky timbre of her voice caused a shiver to arc its way up Claire's spine. With those few words breathed hotly in her ear, all the fatigue from earlier faded from her body. She turned around in Alice's arms and answered her with a slow, deliberate kiss.

Minutes later they left the kitchen by its other set of doors, which opened into a short hallway with a service closet and a staircase that led to the uppermost floors of the ship. Near the top was the former captain's quarters, which Alice had claimed as her own.

When the door was safely shut and locked behind them, Claire pulled Alice into a hasty kiss, unconcerned with her want of finesse.*****

Alice smiled against her lips; her deft hands made easy work of Claire's belt, followed by her pants. She pushed them down, and as they pooled at her heels, Claire kicked them away. Those same hands trailed across the newly exposed skin of the redhead's hips and then lower, over the smooth curve of her backside.

Claire broke the kiss long enough to shrug out of her vest and tank top. As she did, Alice began to shed her own clothes, and when they came together again the contact was heightened by the sensation of skin against skin.

They backed up toward the bed until Claire felt the side of it bump against her legs. She lay back on the large mattress and used the opportunity to sweep her eyes unabashedly over Alice's naked figure. The sight alone was enough to spur her heartbeat, but when Alice made to straddle her she felt distinct warmth ignite low in her body.

Claire drew her hands leisurely up firm milky white thighs, pleased when she felt the muscles twitch under her fingers. Alice dipped her head to draw her into a kiss, and Claire pushed up into it, her tongue soon vying for dominance in the other woman's mouth.

Alice pulled away from the kiss altogether too soon, but she made up for it as she began to trail her lips down Claire's body: she first placed teasing kisses, which seemed to scorch her skin, on Claire's throat and chest, and then she nipped at the swell of her breast.

Claire watched with half-lidded eyes as Alice grinned up at her. It was perfectly clear that she was aware of how torturous her actions were.

Alice drew her tongue down between the valley of Claire's breasts, kissing and licking her way across her flat stomach, before swirling it briefly into her belly button. Then, with no warning whatsoever, she climbed off the bed.

"What...?" Claire gasped, but her answer came quickly in the form of Alice's hands on her legs. The older woman pulled her forward until her hips were positioned at the edge of the bed; she groaned as she realized what would come next. "_Oh_."

With a Cheshire-like grin, Alice knelt in front of her. She eased one of the redhead's legs onto her shoulder and Claire braced her other foot on the end of the bed. The two women locked eyes in a mutual moment of desire and trust. This was somewhere their relationship had yet to venture, but it was clear now that both wanted it.

Alice pressed a tender kiss to the inside of Claire's thigh; overwhelmed by excitement Claire let her head fall back against the bed, her lips parting on a gasp as she felt Alice's mouth at the apex of her thighs.

"Christ," she grunted, fisting a hand in the sheets beside her.

There was a heaven, Claire decided, and she was in it: except she was the one who was being worshipped.

Alice reached her right hand up Claire's body – for her left was otherwise occupied – and their fingers laced together where they rested at the redhead's abdomen.

Long minutes passed and Claire's breath began to come in harsh pants. She turned her head and drew the sheets between her teeth in order to keep from crying out as Alice's tongue did something particularly magical to her. No man she had been with ever knew how to do _that_, and _good lord _did it feel good.

Then Alice did something equally wonderful with her fingers and it was all over.

With a strangled cry Claire crashed over the edge. And it was like fire: tongues of white hot pleasure licked through her entire body, and she could do nothing more than lie there and tremble.

When she opened her eyes an eternity later, Alice was beside her. The expression on her face was one of self-satisfaction: it had been the best orgasm of Claire's life, and she knew it.

"Jesus," Claire rasped, her brain far too addled for anything more.

"Just call me Alice," the older woman said, grinning as she leaned over for a kiss.

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I would hit you if I could move."

Alice threw her head back and laughed. Her green eyes were alight with youthful humour, and for the first time in six years Claire forgot that the world outside was full of decay and loss. All that mattered was the living, beautiful, _happy _woman next to her.

Quite content, Claire closed her eyes and basked in the vestiges of pleasure.

"If I only had a cigarette," she mumbled, barely loud enough to be audible. _Then this would be perfect._

Alice rose from the bed and padded across the room, but Claire remained as she was, too lazy to bother with whatever her lover was doing. The mattress dipped again a moment later and she cracked one eye open, followed by the other when she saw what Alice had retrieved.

"No fucking way," Claire cursed. There was a crisp new package of Camels in her hand.

"The captain was a smoker," Alice said, opening it and tapping one out for her.

"And you waited this long to tell me?"

Alice placed one between the redhead's lips and lit it for her. Then she did the same for herself. "I was saving them for a special occasion."

Claire savoured the nicotine from her first drag before quipping, "Well don't you know how to make a girl feel special?"

This echo of her earlier statement elicited another hearty laugh from Alice.

They smoked together in contented silence, and by the time they finished, Claire's limbs no longer felt like Jell-o. Then it was her turn to make Alice see stars; so she did.

xxx

A while later, the two women lay curled together in a tangle of limbs under the sheets. They were nearly asleep when a knock on the door roused them.

"Alice?"

Alice sat up, bleary-eyed, but with concern on her features. "What is it K-Mart?"

"Have you seen Claire? She's not in her room..."

"I'm here," Claire said, climbing out of bed. "Just hold on."

She dressed quickly, the shift from sleep to leader mode effortless after years of practice. She crossed the room and opened the door, revealing the sheepish teen on the other side.

"Sorry, I ran out of blankets... and I forgot where the spares were."

As K-Mart spoke she glanced around Claire at Alice, who had pulled the sheets over herself but was still clearly naked. The teenager's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, but a slow smile spread across her lips.

"So what have you guys been up to?"

Claire shook her head. "Nothing you need to know about. Now let's go get those blankets."

When she returned to the room a while later – after advising K-Mart that anything else, unless it were an emergency, could wait until the morning – Claire directed a perturbed glare at Alice.

"Find the blankets?" Alice asked with an innocent smile.

"Yes," Claire said, casting a sideways glance at her as she undressed. "And K-Mart grilled me about you the entire time."

"She's a smart kid. She was bound to find out eventually."

Claire climbed back into bed. "And by tomorrow everyone on the Arcadia will, too."

"Is that a bad thing?"

She thought about it. Thus far their relationship had been undefined; if it were common knowledge, whatever it was between them would become concrete. The more she considered it, the more she decided she liked the idea.

"I guess not," Claire conceded, "if it stops Luther from flirting with you."

"What's the matter?" Alice asked, clearly holding back laughter. "Are you jealous?"

"No. I just don't want to have to shoot him. That man can't take a hint."

Alice cocked an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

Claire climbed into her lap, and drew her in for a long, thorough kiss.

"To back the fuck off... because you're mine, and I don't share."

xxx

The next morning it seemed like whenever Claire happened to run across Luther, he made a point of dodging her gaze. And later, when she saw him talking to Alice, he kept more distance than was actually necessary.

To his credit, Luther finally got the hint.

* * *

***Just in case others aren't as familiar with older English, in the phrase "unconcerned with her want of finesse" I have used 'want' to mean 'lack' rather than 'desire.' Why, you ask? I'm just nerdy like that; I adore some older forms of English. I apologize for any confusion that may have occurred.**

**Also why is K-Mart randomly unable to find blankets? Because sometimes plot devices don't really make sense... and I'm too lazy to think of a better reason.**


	4. City on the Edge of Forever

**Fandom**: Post-Afterlife

**Pairing: **Alice/Claire

**Rating: **T (or maybe M? Not hugely explicit).

**Summary**: Christmas in Alaska: Claire gets called a humbug, K-Mart notices everything, and Alice is always right.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah... still don't own Resident Evil, A Skylit Drive, or Of Machines.

**A/N: **_So apparently this is the ficlet series that never ends. I know it's a little early yet for Christmas-based fics, but I had this idea and needed to get it down. I apologize for any excessive sappiness in this... I'll blame being a hopeless romantic at heart. _

* * *

**Imagine If This All Came Down**

Part Four: City on the Edge of Forever

_I've seen this place before  
I've been here before  
But why do I not know my way  
(And for you I'd do anything...)  
(Just let me be your world...)_

_**-It Must Belong Somewhere, **_Of Machines

xxx

While rescuing as many people as possible along the coast, the Arcadia made its way slowly back to Alaska. Within months the several thousand survivors managed to get the abandoned capital, Juneau, back into a habitable state, and within the next year brought it to a point one might almost call thriving. It was the Renaissance of humanity: as more people were drawn by the broadcasts their numbers swelled, and the community became quite a sight to see.

It was Christmas Eve and a fair number of people had gathered in a refurbished hall near the center of town. A former pianist was playing a baby grand he had found, miraculously intact, while others gathered around him singing carols. A meal had been prepared from a recent fishing expedition, and spirits were nothing short of jovial.

"You know, all this place needs is a bit of mistletoe," Luther enthused, sweeping his eyes around the sparsely decorated hall. "It's a shame we couldn't find any."

K-Mart chimed in, "And some holly... to deck the halls with."

Claire groaned. "You two are insufferable."

They were giving her a headache: they had gone on in this vein for rather a while now, and her patience with it was beginning to wane.

Chris patted her on the shoulder. "Oh come on, stop being such a humbug."

The redhead balked at this, shoving his hand away. "Disliking terrible puns and thinly veiled excuses to kiss other peoples' girlfriends is _not _being a humbug."

She turned to Alice, hoping for support, but she found that her lover was grinning widely; it was clear that she was enjoying her frustration. Claire threw her hands up in defeat.

"I give up," she grumbled, but her displeasure was abated somewhat when Alice slipped an arm around her waist, pressing into her side.

"Let's get out of here," Alice whispered into her ear, placing a kiss on her cheek.

The other three became so engrossed in a discussion of which was the best Christmas movie – K-Mart took the side of _Home Alone _while Chris and Luther argued for _A Christmas Story_ – that they hardly noticed when the two women excused themselves.

"We're going for a walk, be back in a bit," Claire said, but it fell on deaf ears.

The redhead pulled on her black aviator jacket and wound a scarf around her neck. Claire was thankful for Juneau's moderate temperature: she never had been one for frigid winters. When they stepped outside, it was snowing in thick fluffy flakes that floated slowly earthward and left a crisp white covering on the ground.

It reminded her of when she was little: she and Chris would run outside at the first snow – no matter how late it was – and immediately begin an epic battle, which naturally she always won (at first because Chris let her, but later from having bested him at the art of frozen warfare). She glanced at Alice and considered pelting her with a handful of snow, but the thought of the others seeing them sobered her – that sort of thing was better left for a time when there was not several hundred people to bear witness to it.

Farther into town they came upon the central courtyard, wherein a large tree had been erected and decorated as best was possible. A tech-savvy survivor named Justin had even managed to make use of solar-run generators to power a string of bright white lights that were wrapped around the great tree. They twinkled brilliantly, like a beacon of achievement, and it almost felt as if nothing horrible had ever happened; as if it were just another Christmas.

They stood for a while in silence, just looking at it.

Her gaze fixed on the tree, Alice said, "Do you ever think about what it would be like?"

Claire frowned. "What do you mean?"

Alice gestured with her hand. "If the world hadn't gone to hell. Do you ever think about where we would be now?"

The redhead considered the question. It was something that had plagued her for the first few years after the outbreak, but that was before Alice; so much had changed since then.

"Sometimes," she admitted, glancing at the older woman. "But I'm starting to believe that maybe it happened for a reason."

Alice was oddly silent, still staring straight ahead.

So she continued: "And it's selfish, but a part of me is glad that it did. Otherwise I wouldn't have you."

This brought a smile to Alice's face, and she reached out for the younger woman's hand, threading their fingers together.

"A true love story for the ages: all it took was an apocalypse," Alice remarked wryly, but the smile remained on her lips.

Claire laughed. "Anything less would have been too easy, huh?"

"I'm all for a challenge," Alice said, moving close and tucking an errant strand of hair behind Claire's ear. "But I wouldn't mind easy for a change."

The redhead drew her in for a kiss and whispered against her lips, "I'll make it easy for you later. But right now we should get back to the others."

Alice sucked Claire's lower lip into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue. The heat this spurred in the younger woman made her shiver amid the chilly air. Alice pulled away, trailing her fingers down the arms of Claire's jacket.

"I doubt they'll miss us," Alice coaxed.

Claire looked at her with incredulity. "Are you kidding? K-Mart notices _everything_. We'll never hear the end of it and you know it."

Alice shrugged. "There are worse things that could happen."

The redhead looked back the way they had come and then at her lover. She shook her head.

"Fine, but don't blame me when we have to deal with a smug teenager on Christmas morning."

A slow, roguish smile spread across Alice's lips. "I'm sure it'll be worth it."

It was not far to the house that Claire and Alice had taken to inhabiting, along with K-Mart and Chris. It was a modest home but big enough for them to live comfortably in. Like the lights on the tree, their power was run on solar energy: it meant the house was quite dark, for they needed to conserve when possible, but the moon illuminated it well enough.

They shed their winter things quickly and when they reached their room, the rest of their clothes rather more so. Alice pulled back the covers and climbed in, beckoning the redhead to follow; she wasted no time in doing so, straddling her in a moment.

Claire hovered above Alice, looking down into her green eyes; there was much conveyed in that simple gaze, the want of words transcended by the familiarity between them. A single glance said it easily enough: _I love you_.

She leaned down to kiss Alice, her red hair creating a curtain around their faces as if to further sequester them from the rest of the world.

The falling snow outside formed a blanket of silence; it was punctuated by the catch of a gasp, the sound permeating the room, foreign as it hung in the air. Claire rolled on to her side, drawing Alice with her and hitching an alabaster thigh against her hip. It was Alice who had gasped; soon it morphed into a moan somewhere low in her throat as deft fingers pressed at the apex of her thighs.

Claire broke from her lips, kissing first the underside of her chin and then the smooth skin of her neck, tracing the freckles there with her tongue. She sucked at the hollow of Alice's throat, grazing it with her teeth when Alice dug her nails into the redhead's back, hips canting up into her hand.

With a grin Claire removed her fingers and replaced them with her thigh, pushing Alice onto her back once more and rolling her hips down to create friction that elicited a growl from the other woman. Claire braced her hands on the bed, expertly rocking her hips, all the while pressing her thigh into Alice and riding the one between her own legs.

Alice curled her arms around Claire's neck and pulled her down, kissing her hotly; she grew more insistent minutes later as their movements became erratic, cresting the edge with a soundless cry. Claire followed her soon after, groaning into Alice's mouth.

"You were right," the younger woman conceded breathlessly.

"Aren't I always?" Alice asked, smirking.

Claire shook her head and smiled fondly down at her. "About this? Yes. But don't let it go to your head."

Alice's eyes shone with mirth. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah, right," Claire said, drawing her in for a kiss. "But I love you anyway."

Sometimes, she figured, it was okay to be wrong.

xxx

The next morning K-Mart greeted them with a smile the size of Canada as they emerged from their bedroom, ruffled and very satisfied-looking.

"Good night?" she asked, trying unsuccessfully to sound blasé whilst also attempting to hide her amusement behind her cup of tea.

Alice glanced over at Claire and grinned. "Sure was."

The redhead rolled her eyes, giving the older woman a beleaguered look. "I wish you wouldn't encourage her."

Before Alice could reply, Chris came wandering out of his own room, bleary-eyed. He smiled at the three women and said, "Merry Christmas."

They answered him in kind, and Claire looked around at her family: it was far from perfect, but she would not trade it for the world.

* * *

_And yes, K-Mart's line about decking the halls with holly is horrible on purpose. _

_As always, comments/reviews are greatly appreciated. __If you happen to be at a loss for what a good review/comment might be, my suggestion is to comment on something in particular that you enjoyed. It's always nice to know that you liked it, but the reasons why help me know what you, the reader, enjoyed and might like to see in another story. __Thanks for reading!  
_


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